Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
It barely rang once before he picked up. There were voices in the background, and then they started to recede, like he was walking away to another part of the building or perhaps to the sidewalk outside. He didn’t say anything, like he knew I was okay because he’d been checking my location the way I’d been checking his.
I didn’t know what to say, how to start. So I said the only thing that I could, the only thing that made sense. “I love you.” I wished he were home, but I didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want him there if he didn’t want to be.
He didn’t say anything for a long time, let the silence sink between us like an anchor out to sea.
I was scared he wouldn’t say it back.
He let out a quiet breath, and it wasn’t clear if it was a sigh of annoyance or simply a calming breath. Or perhaps he’d been smoking when I called, and the cigar still hung between his lips. “I love you, sweetheart. Always.”
I was on the couch when he walked inside.
It was four in the morning. I’d gotten so tired of trying to sleep with this anxiety in my heart that I just showered and got ready like it was morning and then sat on the couch in front of the fire, wearing his t-shirt and sweatpants.
He stopped and stared at me, like he hadn’t expected me to be there.
I didn’t look directly at him, like my stare would chase him away again.
He ran his fingers through his hair then moved into the armchair, crossing one ankle on the opposite knee.
I hated this. How distant he felt. How strained our relationship had become. It was a strange situation because an apology didn’t feel necessary from either of us. No one had really done anything wrong, but the conversation had imploded our relationship, nonetheless. “I want to have children with you.”
He shifted his gaze and looked at me, like that wasn’t what he expected me to say.
I could picture a little boy with blond hair and blue eyes. Picture my heart a mess on the floor at the sight of him. Watching him grow into a man and leave the house would be so bittersweet. “But I can’t do that if you’re in this business. Not after what happened to me. Because if what happened to me happened to them…” I couldn’t finish the sentence, not when just the thought would kill me.
He looked away again, like he’d just stepped into the ring for another round.
“But I can live without children.” I could live without a reality that I’d never had. Live without something that hadn’t come true. Because my love for Bastien and my life with him had completed me since the moment we’d met. “But I can’t live without you.”
He turned back to me, and just like that, all of his anger was gone. His stare had a depth he’d never shown before, visibly moved by what I said. There wasn’t a blink or hesitation in his stare. He looked at me for what felt like forever. “You don’t have to decide now. Perhaps in a few years, you’ll feel differently.”
Time had numbed my fear like an ice pack numbed a burn, but it was still there, haunting me like a ghost that continued to live in the attic. I would never forget the second before I was submerged, never forget the rawness of knowing I was going to die and it would be painful and horrible and dark…and there was nothing I could do to stop it. If I couldn’t say there was no chance that would happen to my child, then I was unfit to be a mother. And if I wasn’t willing to leave their father to give them a better life, then I definitely was unfit. “I won’t change my mind.” I accepted the loss of a different life, accepted a different path that I hadn’t expected to walk. But it felt right.
He studied me like the confidence in my stare wasn’t enough. “I expected to see your stuff packed up when I walked in. Expected to see your ring on my nightstand. Expected you to tell me it’s done.”
My eyes watered. “I’ve been a fucking mess since you left.” Lying in bed, waiting for him to come home, scared that I’d destroyed the best thing that had ever happened to me. “If death didn’t chase me away, then what could?”
He moved to his knees before me then swept up my hair with the way he cupped my face. He moved between my open knees as he held me, his callused thumbs catching the tears that rolled down my face. “Nothing—because nothing could chase me away either.”
15
BASTIEN
The second the food came, Luca hunched over his meal and scarfed down his pancakes.